Falling Outside the Lines
by LIFE the RANGER
Summary: In Sherwood, things have to fall in between the lines, the lines that define perfect. And I, sadly, have fallen outside of those. I do not qualify as perfect any longer. I am Kendall Knight, and I am not afraid to say it, I'm gay. But here, that's about the worst thing that could ever happen. Rated M for language and attempts at suicide. One-shot!


I'm gonna prove a point. Okay, so I wrote the most amazing Percy Angst story for Percy Jackson called Losing Myself, and it's the longest fucking story I have ever written. And it's only got 24 views over the last two days, and one review (a very nice one I might add). That's all! So, I'm going to do a story along the same lines as Losing Myself, and see what happens. I bet this will get more reviews, favorites and/or followers. Enjoy this one shot! Kendall Angst.

…

Kendall's POV

…

Mom said coming out would be the happiest moment of my life. She was fucking wrong. People treated me like the Black Plague, simply because I refused to fall into the small town definition of perfect. Of course my mom and my sister, Katie, still liked me, but the community as a whole cast me aside like yesterday's garbage. Not a happy feeling. Not at all. My three ex best friends refused to talk to me, as if me being gay is catchable. Last I checked it was a feeling (somewhat), not something that could be coughed or sneezed onto people.

"Fag," James hissed as I walked by, head low, eyes glued to the awful mustard yellow floor. James especially treated me awful after I came out. That was two years ago. Freshman year. Start of high school. Happiest place on earth. Whoever came up with that should be punched in the face. With a shovel. Covered in spikes. Dipped in lemon juice. Oh, sorry. That's my so called pent up anger talking. Since I can't very well defend myself at school, it has to go somewhere. I was taking meds for that. Stabilizers or some shit like that. Anti-depressants as well. And a bunch of other things to keep me grounded. I hated them, but mom had to take them so she wouldn't lose her little boy.

"Keep walking, dyke," Logan sneered as I passed by his desk. Wasn't that a girls term? I'd been called so many things I hardly kept track anymore. Mr. Hayes barely looked up as I slid into my seat. Back of the room, far right corner. My own personal escape. Logan and his hockey buddies howled with laughter at some joke, no doubt about me. Keep going through this hour, I reminded myself, forcing the tears into submission. Even after two years, the jokes and jabs and taunts were still as painful as the first day. I slouched in my seat and listened half-heartedly to the lesson going on in front of me. Mr. Hayes knew not to call on me. I would never answer questions. No teacher bothered to call on me anymore. They'd get better answers from the shit brick walls.

The bell rang after fifth hour, and I grabbed everything and fled the scene. I waved to the office ladies as I passed. Cheryl just blinked. Maddie waved me on, not looking up from her precious paper work. She knew what time I left, so she didn't need to look up to know who was leaving. I never stayed a full day. When I first came out I did. Or attempted to anyway. The first week I was so black and blue I skipped the next two weeks for some much needed heal time. People hit me, kicked me, threw heavy objects at me, and everything else I could think of to make me suffer. It was a losing battle, indeed.

"Hey Kendall," mom said without looking up from her paper as I slung my back into one of the chairs by the door. As always, she was waiting for me to come home, perched at the bar, munching on cookies and reading the paper. She slid the plate of still warm chocolate chip goodies towards me, and I snatched one up and devoured it in three bites. She then slid the seven pills my way. I popped half of them in my mouth and chased them with Pepsi. "Don't forget your homework sweetie," mom said, finally rising from her perch and kissing my cheek as she passed. I disappeared into my room, without my work of course, and plopped into my rolling desk chair. I swiveled it around and stared at my bland walls. I never got around to decorating it all nice. I knew exactly what I wanted, but if anyone else saw they'd probably burn me at the stake.

See, people in Sherwood didn't like me very much. I fell just outside the lines and challenged their precious little perfect world by my "shocking revelation" of being gay. I didn't follow the status quo. A world where everyone was straight and liked this person or that person. If you were childhood friends, then you were destined to go out. That must be why James, Logan, and Carlos stopped being friends with me. So they wouldn't have to go out with me. I didn't even like them that way! Just because I liked guys didn't mean I liked anyone at Sherwood. Actually my boyfriend lived a few cities away. We started going out in eighth grade, and man was he a patient motherfucker. In that grade I started questioning exactly who I liked (more specifically what sex I liked better). He helped me through a lot and stuck by my side throughout everything. I loved him a lot, if you could even call something so deep a petty word like love.

"Hey Kendall," Katie said as she slipped by my room on her way to her room. I smiled a little. But it still felt fake and forced. I hadn't smiled correctly in two years, maybe more. The initial wave of relief was quickly trumped by the crushing disappointment by the community, including the three people I considered my friends. The only people who kept talking to me on a regular basis, which was my mother, my sister, and my boyfriend. Speaking of, my phone is chiming his ringtone. Smiling, I flipped my phone open and cradled it to my ear.

"Why, hello sexy," Cameron said as I picked up. I chuckled softly and rolled my eyes to my ceiling, even though he couldn't see me doing it. "Heard today was rough. Mama called me before I dialed your number." By mama he meant my mom of course. He called her that every now and then. "Maybe I should drive over later, once school lets out."

"You're still in school?" I asked. Stupid, I know. Then thought number two. "That's almost a two hour drive! Are you sure?" Cameron rarely came to see me. Between our busy schedules, we just couldn't fit it in.

"I plan on it," he replied. "I told work I'm taking a personal day, and if they didn't like it, they could kiss my ass. I was gonna anyway." I should be there around five, kay sexy." I found myself smiling my usual fake/forced smile. Even my own boyfriend couldn't make me genuinely happy. I was living some kind of fucked up life. "Gotta dash. Ms. Harper's about to bust open the bathroom door. Love and kisses." He hung up without me responding. He always ended it that way. Love and kisses. Sweet and simple. To the point. I loved hearing it. Which made what I was about to do all the harder. I threw my phone onto my bed and rummaged around in my drawer, finally emerging with a short length of rope. I have no idea why, but a pipe ran smack through the middle of my ceiling. I rolled my chair over and balanced on top, wobbling a little before finding the right place. I swung the rope up and over, securing it around the pipe tightly.

"I'm sorry for this," I whispered as a secured the other end around my neck. "I'm sorry mom, for doing this to you. I'm sorry Katie, for subjecting you to the torture of being 'that fag's sister.' I'm sorry Cameron, for not saying love and kisses back. And for not saying goodbye. And I'm sorry, myself." I laughed a little at that one, simply because it was weird talking to myself. "I'm sorry for being gay and not being the perfect person everyone thought I was. I'm sorry I'm slowly losing my mind, and I'm sorry this is going to happen." I took a deep breath, and shoved the chair away. It went rolling wildly and rebounded of the wall with a loud _crack_. I struggled for a bit, but finally let the calmness of darkness take me away.

…

This room was impossibly white. If someone didn't move this fucking lamp from my face we were going to have a problem. As soon as the thought happened, the lamp was pushed aside to reveal Cameron, tear tracks on his face and eyes holding both relief and anger. Oh boy.

"How dare you Kendall Knight?" he exploded, slapping my cheek. I calmly stared back. Using my full name. Not good. "You don't do shit like that! You had Katie, mama, and I worried." I smiled a little. At least my small group of support was actually supporting me. "They call you unstable," he continued in a quieter voice, facial expression melting until only relief was displayed. "Said if Katie didn't hear the chair crash you would've been a goner. Without saying goodbye." He looked at me with a fresh batch of tears brewing. "Kendall baby, I didn't know you were suffering to this point. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I honestly don't know," I replied, stumped for once. Why didn't I tell my boyfriend I wasn't feeling right? Oh right. I didn't want to tip off that I was struggling more than I thought I would ever have to. Cameron crushed me to his chest and stroked my hair, murmuring softly in my ear (utter nonsense I might add). Finally, a doctor came and ushered him away. I waved with my fingertips and he blew me a kiss.

"How do feel Kendall?" the doctor asked around a smile. He must have seen the exchange between Cameron and me. The question made me pissed. I mean, I just tried to kill myself, and the best they could come up with was how do you feel? I felt like someone fucked up my one shot at escaping these retched torments, that's how I felt!

"Peachy," I droned sarcastically. "Never felt better in fact. I just tried to kill myself. Walk in the park! Fucking puppies and kittens!" The doctor waited patiently with a stupid smile I wanted so bad to punch of his smartass face. I held back and when I finished, he finally decided to speak again.

"We aren't allowed to give you anything for your anger yet," he replied to my outburst. The fuck? That one knocked me off my pedestal. "Also, you are, shall I say grounded, to your room until we deem otherwise. Your boyfriend out there will be allowed one visit per week, and your family members are allotted two nights per member. So lucky you. You have five visit nights." Yep, I'm that damn lucky. Which is why I was in here in the first place. "Any questions?" I raised my hand like I was in school. I know, I know, irony.

"Yes doc," I said, and when he nodded I finally put my hand down. "What the fuck is this place?" I practically roared. For his credit, the doctor didn't even flinch away. Brave soul. Idiotic soul.

"It's a suicide prevention center," he stated matter-of-factly. "For those who have actually tried, of course. You'll be in here for quite some time, so you're excused from school. Also, we have a lovely game room, weight room, and snack area for when you are finally able to leave." He gently touched my shoulder, and I felt a small amount of shock. The kind of shock that comes with someone laying their hands on me without it being a fist or to shove me back into walls. It felt…good.

…

They told me I was thriving. Since I got my stabilizers back, my mood has improved greatly. I am no longer "grounded" to my room, and can wander wherever I please on the grounds. Most of my free time is spent in the game room with Dustin and Annaline, two people my age who are also here because they tried to commit suicide (and like me someone discovered them doing it and brought them here). I seemed happier to everyone else too. When mom came to see me after a few weeks, she told me I looked more like the happy little boy she knew me to be. Katie hugged me and said I was doing well for myself, and I was starting to look less like a zombie (a shell of my former self) and more like her big brother.

And as for Cameron, well, our relationship is stronger than ever. For the first time, we can kiss and hug and hold hands with other people around, and no one even looks our way. He says I'm doing much better. I'm also seeing the old me coming back. I have more of my old energy, and a bounce in my step that was lacking some two years now. When Cameron told a joke (something stupid and lame) I gave my first genuine laugh and smile in over two years. And he was just as thrilled with it as I was, so we kept laughing for the rest of his visit. I was also no longer afraid of the anger within. I had a firm hold on it. No longer afraid of losing myself to it.

…

James's POV

…

I heard Kendall is doing better. See, around here, if you even so much as look at the alienated person, everyone will assume you're trying to stand up for them. That's why I had to distance myself. And be mean. I had to fit in. Fall between the lines. Keep the status quo. Blend in, so to speak. I did feel bad for the torture I put him through, though. It sometimes got out of line. Sometimes I wished I would've just said enough is enough, at least once.

…

Logan's POV

…

Quite frankly, I did not care what happened to Kendall. Sure, we were friends once, but in a town where everything has to fall into a certain category, there's no room for error. And that's what he was. Just an error waiting to be erased. So he's doing better there than here. Here, we have reps to protect. There, it's just a bunch of people gathered together who have one thing in common, they all jumped off the loony bin and tried to hang themselves or shoot themselves or poison themselves or whatever it is they did. They can have each other.

…

Carlos's POV

…

I missed Kendall. It was as simple as that. Logan threatened to beat the shit out of me if I so much as looked at him after he told everyone he was gay. I didn't care about it then, and I don't care about it now. He was still sweet Kendall, the one that we could count on in time of crisis. Without him, I didn't quite know what to do with myself. But I had to play by the rules. No stepping out to retrieve what has fallen outside of our definition of perfect. People here are so judgmental. I was afraid of losing Kendall. I suppose he was too.


End file.
